Heath gets his Gal
by geturkicks66
Summary: A Pony Express Story


Heath gets his Gal

A Pony Express Story

The station was quiet when Heath crawled out of his bunk. Rubbing his eyes then running his hand through his hair he glanced around the empty cabin and wondered what time it was. His stomach grumbled, he made his way to the little pot bellied stove, and lifted the lid off the pot that was sitting on top. He peered cautiously at the contents, the smell of beef, carrots and potatoes rose to greet his nose. His stomach rumbled again as he replaced the lid and looked for a bowl.

The stew hit the spot; he had also found some biscuits that he used to sop up the thick gravy and a cup of Williams's famous coffee completed his meal. He cleaned up the dishes then pulled his boots on, grabbed his hat from the upper bunk and headed outside.

Voices could be heard by the corral. Heath approached the enclosure quietly watching as the station owner, Williams and two other express riders were trying to break some horses.

The horse they were working with was a small dark bay mare. She was so dark she looked black until the sun hit her just right, and then Heath could see the brown hue in her coat.

Williams was giving orders to the younger two, "Get that rope on her Jim! She ain't going to walk into it!" Jim moved across the corral swinging the rope over his head. As he released it Heath knew that he had missed. The mare had seen it coming and had ducked out of it before Jim could get it tight. Heath gave a slight grin, she was a thinker. Williams cussed, "If you can't catch her let Mike give it a try!"

"I'll catch her for ya." said Heath with out thinking. Williams turned and grinned.

"Heath, did ya sleep well? Did ya find the stew I left for ya?" Williams smiled when the boy nodded his head.

"You want to give it try?" Williams nodded towards the mare, "Go ahead."

The older man watched as Heath crawled between the rails. His eyes never left the mare as he took the rope from Jim as they passed each other.

The mare stood on the other side of the corral watching as Heath approached her. She tossed her head and pawed the ground making her challenge. Heath grinned and gave her a nod of acceptance. Heath stepped off to her right and advanced swinging the rope to encourage the mare to move away from him. As she moved around the corral she flicked her ears toward the boy who kept pushing her away. Heath would change her direction by stepping out in front of her twirling the rope the mare would slide to a stop and then move away, going the opposite direction. He did this repeatedly for several minutes then he stopped pushing the mare away and turned his back to her. The mare stood at the corral fence, her eyes upon the back of the boy then she slowly approached. Heath stood still till he felt the mare blowing his hair. Slowly he turned to her. She a wary step back then came forward again, letting Heath run his hand on her nose. Quietly mumbling he placed the rope over her head and fashioned a halter out of the lope. Patting her shoulder he led her to the three men at the rail.

"Well done Heath." Smile Williams, "Last time I had seen a show like that was from a Sioux." Heath ducked his head blushing lightly.

"Where did ya git her?" asked Heath

"I bought her and fourteen others from a fella over in Carson City. He got them from the Modoc."

"They got good stock up there." replied Heath giving the mare a final pat before he squeezed between the rails. "I'll leave this rope on her so she will be easier to catch next time."

Williams pulled out his watch, glancing down at the time, "Your ride back west will be here in an hour or so, if they haven't had any Indian troubles out that way."

Heath looked at the older man, "Has there been trouble?"

Williams nodded his head, "Nothing serious yet. Just steelin stock and burning some buildings. I don't think you'll need to worry about them."

Jim came out of the barn leading a saddled gelding. Heath looked him over.

"He's an ugly son of a gun, but this fellow can run if ya need him to." smiled Jim as he tied the gelding to the hitching post in front of the cabin.

"Hope I won't need to find out!" Heath smiled back.

Williams as always was checking the horse and the tack. The rider's life depended on his making sure the horse was the best he had to offer. He looked at Heath as the boy leaned against the hitching post.

"When you get back to Strawberry, I think you need to let Henry's wife take care of you. Looks like you could sleep for a month."

"All the stations have been short handed. I have been taking on all the extra rides I can get."

"We could use a lot more riders like you, Heath."

The sound of a horn blowing lifted their eyes to the west.

"Rider coming in!" shouted Mike as he pulled the gray mare that had stood next to the gelding out into the yard.

"Jim your ride is here!" yelled Williams as the rider pulled his tired mount to a halt, he pulled the mochilla off his saddle tossing it to Mike who in turn threw it on the saddle of Jim's horse. Jim came out of the cabin at a jog, checked his gear then vaulted into the saddle to continue on to the east.

The tired rider made his way to the water trough, splashing water on his face; he looked up at Heath and grinned.

"Hey! Heath!"

"Good to see ya Ricky. What's the trail like back that way?"

"Well if ya like eating dust there's plenty of that. It's been raining in the mountains, so the water is up in the creeks."

Heath nodded his thanks, this time tomorrow he should be close to Strawberry.

The rider coming in from the east made it in earlier than even he had expected and two minutes later Heath was on the gelding heading west.

Heath had just left Friday's station when all hell broke loose.

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**Chapter two**

The landscape had changed from a desert to mountainous. Friday's station had been the last station in Nevada and Yanks Station was only 15 miles away. Then Heath would be home at Strawberry.

Approaching the last water hole until he reached Yank's station, Heath used caution. It was well known that the Piute also used the water hole. One didn't want to run in blind and find himself face to face with the unknown. Finding a place between two boulders that overlooked the water hole, Heath was glad for his caution.

The Piute had made camp at the edge of the water. Their fire reflected in the water. Heath licked his lips as he surveyed the area. There were only six Indians in this raiding party. He noticed the small horse heard off to the left of their fire. He ducked his head with realization that this heard came from the station he had left almost nine hours earlier. He recognized the dark bay mare in the horse heard and the black hat with the stampede string on the head of one of the Indians had belonged to Williams.

Slowly Heath back away from the edge, he turned and sat for a moment looking at the roan and the roan looking at him. The horse could use a drink, but getting past the Piute wouldn't be easy.

The roan's head shifted, his ears came forward and his nostrils flared a bit as he caught the sent of another band of Piute heading towards the water hole, before Heath could move to keep the roan quiet , he nickered. The Indians were instantly on alert. Heath sat still hoping the Indians would continue on. The Indian bringing up the rear spotted the roan and shouted an alarm.

Heath knew it was run or die. Not waiting any longer Heath jumped into the saddle, the roan already at a gallop even before he was fully in the saddle. A shout went out among the Indians and they drew their weapons and fired arrows at his retreating back.

He felt the sharp pain in his thigh, looking down he could see an arrow protruding from his leg. Knowing he didn't have time to stop and doctor it he pushed the horse on. He knew he had to put distance between him and the water hole. Getting to Yanks Station was his only hope.

After a few miles of hard riding, the roan began to slow. Heath felt it falter and stumble. The little horse tried to keep his balance, but fell to his knees. The roan's head hit the ground with a thud and he gave a groan as his body fell on its side. Heath had been thrown over the roans head and landed a few feet away. The pain in his leg made him hold his breath. As the pain eased he let the air he was holding out and slowly sat up, looking over at the roan. He shook his head with regret. The roan had been a fine animal.

Heath took the time to check the wound in his leg. It was bleeding and the arrow's point was deep. Taking out his knife, he cut the shaft down so that an inch stuck out of the wound. Taking the arrow out would only cause him to loose more blood. Taking the red bandanna from around his neck he wrapped it around his leg, careful not to hit the wood sticking out of his leg.

That done, Heath crawled over to the roan and ran his hand down the sweaty neck, looking at the two protruding arrows in the horse's barrel, placed just below the saddle blanket.

"Sorry, boy." He whispered, "But ya saved my hide, thanks." The roan's eyes had already glazed over with death. Standing, Heath pulled the saddle and bridle from the dead horse. Knowing that he couldn't carry the saddle he stashed it next to a tree. Picking up the mochila he began his long walk towards Yank's Station.

Heath stayed off the main road, he felt it would be safer that way. If anyone approached from either direction he would be able to hear them and get to the road for help.

The sun was setting on another day and making it to Yank's Station was no longer feasible. With the darkness came the cold chill from the rain that had started to fall just before sunset.

With water dripping off the brim of his hat Heath limped on through the woods. The mochila that had started out feeling light now seemed to weigh fifty pounds.

His leg ached with every step, sometime during his walk Heath had fallen. To tired to get up he had laid in the damp leaves until he became too chilled to sleep. Getting up once more he forced himself on.

He wasn't certain how long he had walked when he heard the snort of a horse. The fog cleared out of his head as he became alert, he crouched down next to a tree and began to survey the area. The horse snorted again and Heath was able to locate the direction the sound had come from.

Trying to stay hidden He3ath worked his was forward. Through the trees he could now make out the light from a fire and the murmurings of men talking.

Creeping to the edge of the firelight, Heath could now make out the men. Piute!

Sometime during the day or evening they had passed by him. Looking around the camp he spotted the horses. An idea formed in Heath's mind. Steal one of the Piute ponies and head for Strawberry.

Heath snuck into the Indians camp, he had waited until they had fallen asleep. The fire's glow illuminated the sleeping forms on the ground. He approached with caution knowing that there was at least one Piute on guard, standing outside the fire's glow.

Carefully he made his way to where the horses stood tied to various trees. He scanned the horses tied to the trees, he knew he didn't have much of a choice, but he had recognized one of the horses, the dark bay mare. The very same mare he had worked with at Williams Station.

He untied her lead, at first she was hesitant to leave the rest of the group, but Heath quietly spoke to her. When she lowered her head to blow into Heath's hair he knew she was his. He led the mare away from the camp. When he felt that he was far enough he swung aboard the mare and headed back toward the trail. But his joy of having stolen a horse from the Indians was short lived.

The guard had spotted him. He kicked the little mare into a trot threading their way between trees and large rocks. After a few miles Heath slowed the mare to a walk, and then stopped to listen. Not hearing any signs of pursuit he slid off the horse, leading the mare, he climbed up into the shelter of some boulders and waited for daylight.

Just after dawn, Heath slipped out of his hiding place and once again mounted the mare. The rain that had fallen during the night had ended just before dawn. Drops of water hung on the branches of the fir tree's lower branches soaking Heath as he and the mare brushed by them. The brown needles that carpeted the forest floor absorbed the mare's footfalls. Horse and rider passed silently through the forest.

Hunger gnawed at Heath's belly, he took a drink from his canteen and took the time to get his bearings. He was now a day late and the folks at the Strawberry station would be getting worried.

A thump brought him back to his current situation. Looking to his right an arrow shivered in the trunk of a tree. Looking around, he spotted the Indians, without hesitation he kicked the mare into a run.

So far Heath had managed to keep ahead of his pursuers. He took a chance and looked back the Indians were gaining. Heath didn't want to use anymore of the little mares reserved energy, but he knew he needed to put more distance between him and the Piute. He asked for the mare to give him more and she responded.

The trees started to thin out and at the last moment Heath pulled the mare to a sliding stop at the edge of a cliff. Heath looked over the edge then back the way he had come, the Indians were hot on his trail. The mare tossed her head eager to be off. Heath gave her a pat on the shoulder then turned her away from the cliff's edge, but the path was blocked, the advancing Indians had spread out. There was only one way to go. He turned the mare back to the cliff's edge; taking a deep breath he kicked her forward.

**Chapter 3**

The little mare didn't hesitate at the edge but leapt over it, for a moment Heath knew what it felt like to be an eagle. The mare landed and kept running down the hill rushing past boulders and tree stumps, jumping fallen logs that lay in her path. Heath was dizzy with the speed as the wind brought tears to his eyes as she flew down the mountain side; he gripped her with his legs and leaned back as she made her suicidal decent.

The mare slid on her haunches the last thirty feet of the decent. The sharp sandstone breaking off as her hooves made contact with the rocky surface. When they reached the bottom, Heath reined the mare up and took another look at the hillside, breathing deep that he had made it down in one piece. The mare arched her lathered neck with a half rare ready to be off again. Heath patted her shoulder.

"Well done gal." He whispered still amazed at the decent.

The Piute were gathered at the cliffs edge; one raised his arm and gave a sharp yell as in a salute. Heath grinned then turned the mare, heading for the road that would take him to Strawberry.

**Barkley Ranch – 14 years later**

Heath had been in the north pasture, mending fence, when he heard the distress calls of a cow. Mounting the dark bay mare, known to everyone as Gal, he headed toward the calling cow.

He located her, standing in the shadow of a tree, and not far from her was the object of her distress. Her calf, of only two weeks old, was firmly stuck in mud from a slow drying pond. Even though the pond itself was spring fed in the summer with the lack of rain it would slowly recede to a shallow tank, leaving thick, wet and somewhat deep mud surrounding its borders.

The calf struggled and then bawled for its mother. The cow watched warily as the cowboy approached the water hole. Her movement indicating that she would protect her calf.

Heath shook his rope out, keeping an eye on the cow as he tossed the rope over the calf's head. He dallied the rope around the saddle horn and backed Gal up so that the rope was taut. He slipped out of the saddle and walked to the edge of the mud. Not wanting to get himself stuck, he began to pull on the rope, hoping that he would be able to get the calf free without using Gal's power. Slowly the calf inched forward; it had given up its fight and had lain down. The mud released its victim and Heath was able to drag the calf towards the dry ground.

The cow seeing that her calf was free from the mud, now became the protector. Heath didn't have time to get the rope off the calf or get out of her way. She charged forward. Soon her legs had become tangled in the rope and with every movement she drug her calf. She had Heath down her large head pressing him into the ground; he could feel the air going out of his lungs and the snap of ribs. When at last she backed off from her first charge, and Heath was able to gain some breath, he yelled at Gal to back up.

Being the well trained cow horse, she did as told and backed up keeping the rope taut. Heaths hope was that the rope around the cow's legs would be pulled tight, thus knocking the cow onto her side. It didn't work. The cow now seemed to think that Gal was her enemy and charged her. Gal tried to step to the side but the cow still hooked her with her horns.

The last thing Heath heard, were a bellowing cow a screaming horse and the distant shot of a rifle.

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Two days ago Nick had not been certain that his brother would be able to get out of bed. They had almost lost him. The ribs had punctured a lung, along with the other internal damage; it didn't look good. But Heath had done just that.

Nick stood behind Heath as he kneeled next to the mound of fresh dirt. A wooden cross bearing the name GAL had been pounded into the dirt.

With his head bowed he had told Nick the story of Gal and how she had saved his life that day.

Nick placed a hand on his brothers shoulder, "She saved ya again and died doing it."

"She was the first horse that I could call my own. I paid for her with the money I earned from the Express."

Nick placed a hand on Heath's elbow and helped him to stand. He didn't miss the grimace of pain that flashed across Heath's face as he placed his right arm across his stomach. Heath stood on weak legs for a moment.

"Thanks for burying her for me Nick." He said as they made their way slowly to the buckboard.

"You know I would do anything for you Heath." He helped his brother on to the seat placing a hand on his knee, "This is just one thing I wish I hadn't had to do." Heath nodded his understanding. Nick had been the one to shoot the cow, hoping to save Gal. But the damage had been to great and he had put Gal down also.

Nick smiled, "Ya know she didn't leave ya empty handed, little brother."

Heath looked at Nick not fully understanding.

"There is that two year old bay colt of hers out in the corral."

Heath smiled, "Charger."


End file.
